Along Came the Saviour
by AnythingBut
Summary: How come that Draco Malfoy and his son have ended up in St Mungo s? Auror Potter is about to find out... AU, abuse, violence, pre-slash. Nothing too graphic. Please read the story notes inside.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and associates, none of the characters or storylines you recognize are mine!

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_Hey all_, since I don´t have the time to update my stories at the moment, here´s a treat for all those who´re patiently (or not ;D) waiting!

I had written this a while ago and intended to post it after completing _Wicked_, but since that won´t happen too soon (not only because I don´t have much time, but also because the story is going to be much longer than initially expected), I decided to upload it now. It is complete and consists of four chapters, all of which will be posted before Christmas.

Season´s Greetings and Happy Holidays to all of you!

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**_Story notes_,** **please read these**:

This story is AU and not DH-epilogue compliant. It contains some violence, abuse, non-con (not very graphic) and the mention of slash and mpreg. Don´t like, don´t read!

It´s pre-slash, so be warned that there´s no actual H/D action in here.

**-o-**

**Along Came the Saviour**

**-o-O-o-**

o

**Part 1**

o

The day had started off cold and dull. Harry headed for the lift and found he was alone in it; he could not blame his colleagues, as it was well before eight and barely light out.

Ever since his breakup with Ginny did Harry usually get up early, as he simply could not sleep in anymore. Even on his work free days did he wake up long before the rest of the country, or so it seemed.

It was just as well, he mused bitterly, that way he had time to catch up on the paperwork.

The lack of sleep wore on him, yet he could not change it. Hermione had tried to help, had suggested everything from using certain herbs to try hypnosis, but Harry had not heeded her advice; he was too indulged in his work to take his problem seriously, and work was the only thing that was sufficient to distract him from the pain of the breakup.

It simply had not worked between them; both of them had changed after the war, and also _because_ of the war, and although they were still able to talk about everything, the passion which had fuelled their relationship in the beginning was gone, undeniably so. It had taken both of them a long time to accept that, but in the end they had had to admit that their love had just been a memory. It had been hard and still was.

Tiredly, he leaned against the wall of the cabin as it rattled along; it had taken years for him to shake off the rather unpleasant memories he associated with the Ministry of Magic, and he still did not particularly like being inside the building.

Harry was surprised to see that the Notification Globe on his desk lit up the minute he stepped into his small office. He drew his wand and tipped against the glass ever so slightly.

A voice sounded through the room as soon as he had done so: "Good morning, Potter," the familiar baritone of his supervisor, Julius Fleetwood, greeted him. "There´s been an incident concerning one of the former Death Eaters. I´ve assigned you and Floyd MacKenzie to the case, you´ll find the details in your inbox. Please attend to the matter immediately and report to me afterwards. Good day."

Harry turned towards his inbox: one of the Ministry´s owls was indeed sitting on the designated perch, her head in her feathers. When Harry gently prodded her, she turned her magnificient head and looked at him as though asking him how he dared to bother her, her amber eyes reproachful.

With a pang, Harry felt himself reminded of Hedwig; she had sometimes used that exact same look on him.

Mutely, he traded the piece of parchment which had been attached to the bird´s leg for a few owl treats.

He scanned the parchment and sat down on his chair for a moment, inwardly groaning: it had to be _him_, hadn´t it? Of all the junior Aurors in the apartment, it had to be Harry to be assigned to this particular job. He did not count MacKenzie in, as the guy was a pathetic sod who loved to abuse his authority, but kept staring at the note, this time reading it more thoroughly:

St Mungo´s Hospital reported the committal of Scorpius Malfoy, 2, son of former Death Eater Draco Malfoy, 27, in the early morning hours between 2 and 3 a.m. The father claims that the child´s injuries are the result of a domestic accident, which has yet to be verified. The incident coincides with a registered powerful surge of magic in the flat the Malfoys are currently residing in; please make sure to interrogate Mr Malfoy regarding the events."

Harry folded the note and put it in the pocket of his robes; striding over to the floo, he wondered why Malfoy was ´currently residing´ in a flat rather than the Manor he had grown up in, and why the hell he, Harry, had been assigned to this job again.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes before he reached for the floo powder; it was nothing more than a routine job, he told himself. Every former Death Eater on the loose was being checked whenever something happened that included any kind of strong magic and/or of authority involvement, and that was it; no reason to get worked up about it.

There had been ongoing debates wether those who did not land in Azkaban should be forbidden to use magic at all, but in the end it was decided that they were simply going to be restricted to the use of necessary every day magic only; every magical surge which strength exceeded the magnitude needed for basic daily tasks would be investigated.

-

The Welcome Witch in St Mungo´s reception area directed him to General Accidents on the First Floor; there was a waiting area in which only two people sat.

Harry passed it and walked further down the corridor and around a corner until he reached another waiting area. He could hear MacKenzie´s voice before he saw him; his colleague was talking to a tall blond man who had turned his back on the Auror and was standing in front of the window.

"... aware that there will be severe consequences if you don´t cooperate properly, aren´t you, Mr Malfoy?" MacKenzie was snarling. An auto-quill was hovering over a notepad in the air next to him, waiting to record Malfoy´s answers.

"Floyd," Harry greeted quietly.

"Potter, about time," MacKenzie snorted. "The suspect refused to answer most of my questions."

Harry forced himself to stay calm: "By definition he is not a _suspect_, MacKenzie," he said coldly. "Why don´t you go and get yourself a coffee while I try my luck?"

MacKenzie scowled but turned to go.

_Great, just great_, Harry thought while he watched the other Auror stalk away with an air of reluctance; _here I am, dealing with two idiots at once. _

He glanced at the notepad MacKenzie had left behind: so far, the outcome had been meagre indeed. Malfoy had given his name and address and his version of what had happened.

After reading it, Harry took a deep breath and readied himself to face Draco Malfoy, personified arrogance and former Voldemort-disciple.

They had not seen each other since the end of the war, thus Harry was surprised when Malfoy finally turned around: he looked very different from how Harry remembered him. He still had the same fair hair and thin, handsome face, but he looked care-worn, and there wasn´t the slightest trace of the familiar sneer which had been his trademark in school.

Apart from that, he was hugging himself, something Harry had not noticed before.

"Malfoy," he said, still taking in the other´s appearance; they stared at each other for a long moment, trying to fathom whether the ice would carry them, so to speak.

"Potter," Draco finally said, his voice slightly hoarse. He surprised Harry again when he left his spot by the window.

He walked slowly, with carefully measured movements; his features were tense, yet he tried not to let on how much this was taking out of him. He didn´t know that his skin looked greyish with fatigue and pain, and he couldn´t subdue the slight tremor in his hand when he lifted it to shake Potter´s.

As much as he hated that thought, he needed Potter on his side. For Scorpius. Draco had not seen his former rival for years and was surprised by the change: the dark-haired wizard had grown up. He was still smaller than Draco, but his features had lost their roundness. He looked a little pale and exhausted, yet he still had the same air of determination about him.

Harry shook his hand, registering the tremor and that it looked like Malfoy was wearing pyjamas underneath his robe, and wondered what had really happened. According to MacKenzie´s notes Draco had stated that Scorpius had fallen after having managed to get out of bed somehow, thus the magic; it wasn´t unusual around small wizard children that their magic went off uncontrolledly while they were dreaming, causing all kinds of strange things to happen; it was supposed to abate when they started to talk properly.

Harry was reminded of the time he had found himself on the primary school´s roof when Dudley and his gang had been chasing him; he supposed that it had happened similarly, though he had not been asleep, and had certainly been no toddler anymore.

The story sounded plausible, yet Harry, and undoubtedly MacKenzie as well, could tell that it was not the whole truth. Not with the way Draco looked right then. He was certain Malfoy would evade his questions as well, as he obviously wanted to hide something, therefore Harry decided for another approach.

"How´s your little boy?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his tone.

Draco gave a bitter laugh: "I´d like to know that myself," he said. "Your colleague refused to let me go and see him until he was ´done with the questioning´. I´ve told him all there is to tell, Potter, and I´d very much like to be with Scorpius now. He´ll be scared if he wakes up alone."

His voice was strained. Harry, wondering where the child´s mother was, nodded: "Okay. I´ll come with you."

Draco rolled his eyes, but, reminding himself that he needed to be civil to Potter, didn´t object. They walked to Scorpius´ room in silence, Harry matching his stride to Malfoy´s; the blond wizard decidedly walked a little slow and with an effort he was trying to conceal.

-

The child was lying alone in a small room next to the nurse´s station. A monitor was magically recording its vitals, much like the ones Harry had seen on Muggle TV shows, but this one was silent. The small boy was fast asleep, a stuffed dog in his arm; he looked a lot like his father, Harry thought.

Malfoy seemed to sag as he saw his son in the large hospital bed; wordlessly, he sat down on the edge of the mattress and took Scorpius´ hand in his.

"I´ll be right back." Harry said in an undertone and went to find someone who could tell him how Scorpius was faring. He did not need to go far, as there was one nurse on duty who had just come back to the station.

Harry showed her his ID and, after the usual ado about him being _the_ Harry Potter, asked to be filled in on the details about Scorpius Malfoy´s injuries.

"Ah, the sweet little thing," she said, "he´ll be right as rain in no time. He had a concussion, so he´ll stay here for observation until tomorrow. Had some scratches and a sprained wrist as well, but that´s healed already."

"Was he awake when he and his father arrived?"

"Yes, he was, and crying terribly at that; the little darling looked positively terrified!"

"Mr Malfoy claimed that his son fell after he had somehow gotten out of his bed."

"Well, it happens, little things work themselves up in their dreams and suddenly their magic errupts. It can have all sorts of consequences, the boy was lucky nothing more serious happened."

"Hm... and I imagine Mr Malfoy has been terribly worried about his son when they got here."

"Yes, he actually looked like he´d seen a ghost. He was so shaken he had trouble filling in the forms."

"I see. Would you be so kind and show me the patient´s file so I can check if it matches with my informations?"

"Certainly, I´ll get it for you." She went over to the filing cabinet which held the files of all patients currently under her care, and drew out the one he´d requested.

Harry scanned the contents, trying not to look so eagerly, quickly finding what he was looking for.

Scorpius Malfoy, born June 5, 2004. Father: Draco Malfoy, born June 5, 1980. Mother unknown.

Harry stared at the words; apart from the fact that their birthdays were on the same date, there was the question of the mother. He had never heard of the case that the mother was unknown rather than the father.

He frowned at the file before closing it: "Thank you, Nurse... Jenkins, you´ve been of great help."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, Mr Potter," she replied and blushed furiously.

Still frowning, Harry left the nurse´s station.

When he arrived back at Scorpius´ room, he saw that the little boy was awake, his eyes locked onto his father, who had lowered himself down on his elbows so he was closer to his son, and was telling him a story which apparently included a lot of unexpected belly-tickling. Every time Draco did so, the child giggled and squealed with delight.

Harry did not want to intrude on this, so he quietly backed away, only to run into MacKenzie.

"I hope you´ve been more successful than I," the other Auror said gruffly.

Harry inwardly counted till ten before answering: "That depends on how you define ´successful´, MacKenzie. I have talked to the Nurse on duty, and she has confirmed Mr Malfoy´s words. End of story."

Harry´s face did not give away the fact that he actually thought otherwise, but whatever it was Malfoy was trying to hide, it did not seem to be anything unlawful. At least not on his part, a small voice in Harry´s mind whispered. He couldn´t tell why he thought so, it was merely a gut feeling.

MacKenzie gave a theatrical sigh: "Very well then, let´s hope you´re right. I wouldn´t put it past him to use his kid as an excuse for whatever he´s been up to."

"I_ am_ right, MacKenzie. I´ve known Malfoy for a long time now, he´s harmless." Harry deliberately made it sound as though they had been acquainted rather than rivals. He knew what MacKenzie would probably make of this, famous Harry Potter an acquaintance of a former Death Eater, but he did not care.

His gut told him there was more to this story than Malfoy wanted to let on, and Harry was curious as to what it was. He was very aware what Hermione would say to this, could actually hear her voice in his head: ´You´ve always been obsessed with him, Harry´, but did not care about that either. The last time he had seen Malfoy had been on the day of his trial, a few months after the war. Maybe he needed some kind of closure.

"I´ll go and get a proper statement from him," he heard himself say now. "Once he´s signed it, the case is closed as far as I am concerned."

MacKenzie sneered, ironically looking much like Malfoy in the older days: "I´ll floo back to my office and write a report. I´ll leave it for signing on your desk."

Harry nodded: "I´ll be in soon."

-

He silently walked back to Scorpius´ room; Malfoy sat up when he heard him, his back visibly stiffening. His son peered at Harry from behind his stuffed dog, large grey eyes of the same slate colour his father´s were.

"Hi there, Scorpius," Harry said, a little awkwardly, and entered the room.

Draco turned to him, his face full of apprehension. He relaxed marginally when Potter smiled at Scorpius, a real smile, not just a grimace for pretence. Scorpius clearly was fascinated by the stranger who apparently knew his name. He tugged at his father´s sleeve: "Is that?" he asked.

"That´s Harry," the blond wizard answered, after a moment of hesitation, "he went to school with me."

Scorpius looked from him to Harry with wide eyes, apparently picking up his father´s tautness, but sensing that ´Harry´did not prove any danger to them.

"So what´s the verdict?" Malfoy asked quietly, and Harry was puzzled by how his voice was still absent of any of the disdain he was so used to hearing.

"No verdict," Harry said. "I believe you. I just need to record a proper statement, which you need to sign. That´s all. No house search, no further consequences."

If Draco had not been so aware that this was Harry Potter, in front of whom he did not wish to appear any weaker than he probably had already done, he would have gaped at him.

As it were, however, he simply exhaled as though he had held his breath for a long time, and turned his head away, closing his eyes for a moment, before facing Potter once more: "Thank you," he said.

In the past, he would have been furious that it had been_ Saint_ Potter to have to help him, but right then, he did not care. He knew that Auror MacKenzie would not have let him off the hook so easily, and that he could count himself lucky.

His greatest fear was that the authorities would take Scorpius away from him, and if Potter could help him to avoid that, he would happily be willing to bury any old grudges he might be harbouring.

He gave his statement once more, while Scorpius, alternately watching him and the Auror with wide eyes, played with his stuffed dog.

Harry read out to him what he had written, then gave him his quill for signing.

Draco did so and handed him the parchment back. Harry rolled it up slowly: "Care to tell me what really happened?"

For the fraction of a second, Draco´s eyes widened. He quickly gathered himself however: "Excuse me? Didn´t I just set my name under what happened?"

Harry shrugged: "In my opinion, you set your name under what we _agreed_ had happened."

"I thought you believed me?"

"I do. I believe you when you say that the incident did have nothing to do with the Dark Arts or any activity related to your status as a former Death Eater. I did however notice that something´s odd. Firstly, you´re not stupid, Malfoy, you were far too nervous about a minor breach of the regulations. Secondly, you look rather worse for wear."

What little colour had been left seemed to drain from Malfoy´s already pale face. "I don´t know what you´re talking about," he said tersely, subconsciously edging closer to his child as though feeling safer by the little boy´s presence.

Scorpius was watching his father anxiously now, reaching out and touching his cheek: "Daddy not be afwaid," he said, his lip trembling. "Jarra ´way."

Malfoy´s head whipped around: "Yes, baby," he murmured, "I know. We´re all right."

"All wight," Scorpius repeated affirmatively.

Draco, obviously scrambling to regain his composure, gave a shaky laugh and pressed a kiss on the boy´s forehead: "Thank you, angel," he whispered.

Harry witnessed this display with mixed emotions: he now was sure that something was wrong, and apart from that his image of Draco had been turned upside down completely. This wasn´t the cold-hearted bastard he had known in school, this was a man who cared deeply for his son, and who put said son´s welfare in front of his own. Unlike his father, Harry mused, but then pushed the thought of Lucius away; two Malfoys to contend with at a time were enough.

When Draco turned back to Harry now, there was a look of defiance in his eyes: "I´ll deal with it," he said. "It´s private."

"So I thought," Harry said gently. "Who is Jarra?"

At exactly this moment, Nurse Jenkins entered with a tray: "Hello little man," she greeted Scorpius. "I´ve got breakfast for you!"

While she set up the dishes, she informed Draco that Scorpius very likely was all right, but that he was supposed to stay another day for observation.

Harry thought Draco looked relieved.

He did not want to press the matter further for now, and besides, he had to get back to his office.

"I have to go," he thus said after the nurse had left,"are you going to be all right for now?"

"Yes," Draco´s voice was very quiet, and his eyes met Harry´s only briefly. "Thanks, Potter."

Harry waved at the little boy and turned to go.

"Hawwy," he heard Scorpius say experimentally.

Malfoy did not reply.

-

Harry could not get Draco and his son out of his head the whole day. For one, Malfoy had been so very different in his whole demeanour, and apart from that, Harry suspected that he was in some kind of trouble.

He called at Ron and Hermione´s after work; they had just had their second baby, and Ron was taking a few days off to help.

Hermione was just putting little Rosie to bed while the baby, Hugo, was lying in Ron´s arms, still wide awake. He was gazing at Ron with his large blue eyes which were still unfocused, making quiet snuffling sounds.

They sat down in the living room, where Hermione joined them after a while.

Harry told them about Malfoy: "I really don´t know what to make of it," he concluded.

"Did you have a look into his file?" Hermione asked.

"Not yet. The former Death Eater´s files are confidential; I didn´t want to unnecessarily draw attention to Malfoy´s case by signing in for it."

Ron looked from his wife to his best friend: "Excuse me? Since when did Malfoy belong to the people we need to protect?"

"Ron," Hermione began, but Harry waved it off: "I know, I know- and you know I´d agree with you, but... he was so different. Something tells me it wasn´t just for show."

"It´s _Malfoy_ we´re talking about," Ron said. "Just in case you´ve forgotten everything he ever did."

"I haven´t forgotten that," Harry said patiently. "But don´t you think people can change?"

"People, yes. Malfoys, no."

Harry exchanged an amused look with Hermione.

"He´s a father now," Harry then pointed out. "He seems very devoted to his little boy, and that´s more than I´d have expected, to start with."

Ron caressed his own son´s tiny face: "I bet he´s not as devoted as I am," he said, cooing at the baby in a silly voice.

Harry snorted, though grinning all the while: "Right. I´ll talk to you once you´re acting normal again."

Harry knew that Julius Fleetwood most certainly had had access to Malfoy´s file, and since Harry had not submitted MacKenzie´s and his report yet, it would still be in his superior´s office.

-

Later that night, Harry took his Invisibility Cloak and Flooed back to the Ministry. He went straight for Fleetwood´s office and opened the door with a whispered spell. He didn´t have any qualms about it; even though he had worked for the Ministry for some years now did he still feel as though they were owing him. He knew it was childish to cling to old resentments, yet they were running deep.

Ten minutes later, he was in his own office, reading Malfoy´s file by wandlight. There wasn´t much new information; after the war, Draco had moved out of the Manor; his father was in Azkaban, his mother still living in the huge old house. Draco apparently had taken to translating for a living, working for a French publishing company. It meant that he could work at home and look after his child.

Harry sought for information about Scorpius; as he had been born years after the trial, and since Malfoy had not breached the regulations once before, there was nothing about him however.

Slightly disappointed, Harry looked at Malfoy´s adress and found that it had been changed twice since Scorpius´ birth; before he had moved to London, he had lived in Somerset, where he had moved to after leaving his flat in Wiltshire.

Harry tipped his index finger against his nose contemplatively. Maybe it was time to visit Narcissa Malfoy. But first, he´d try and talk to Draco once more.

**--**

**To Be Continued**

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	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for reading, reviewing and/or putting the story on alert!

**-o-**

**Along Came the Saviour**

**-o-O-o-**

o

**Part 2**

o

Harry went to the hospital early the next morning; when he arrived at Scorpius´ room, Draco had just finished dressing the little boy. Both of them looked around in surprise when Harry knocked on the door frame; whereas Scorpius grinned and quickly hid his face behind his stuffed dog, his father looked alarmed.

Harry held up his hands in an appeasing gesture: "I´m not here on Ministry business," he said, slowly entering the room.

"Why_ are_ you here then?" Malfoy asked, buttoning up Scorpius´ coat.

"I just wanted to see how you´re doing, and offer you a lift."

"A lift."

"You know, a ride home."

"All wight," Scorpius chimed in.

Draco frowned: "Why? And how? I am perfectly capable of flooing us home. Scorpius isn´t allowed to be taken on Side-Along-Apparation right after the concussion anyway."

"I am not talking about Apparating, and before you ask: no portkey either," Harry said, finding it amusing for some reason. "I am talking about going by car."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you´ve got to say?"

"No, I was also going to say ´no thanks´. Kind of you to offer, Potter, but I think one time of not biting each other´s head off does not constitute a friendly relationship."

"True, but maybe stopping and having breakfast on the way might."

Draco took a deep breath: "Why do you suddenly want to be my friend? We don´t even like each other!"

Harry shrugged, honestly at a loss of what to say there, as he did not know what was making him do this.

"You seem different," he finally said. "Maybe I´m just trying to be a good person."

"No need to try, Potter, you are." Draco was serious, he had managed to say even that without a sneer. "You officially are the best person this country has."

"Stop mocking me."

"I´m not mocking you, I still think you´re an idiot," Draco replied, finding himself grinning all of a sudden, much to his embarrassment.

Why the hell was he bantering like this with Harry bloody Potter? Apart from that, he had meant what he had said. He had hated Harry for being a hero, had silently ranted about it for days after the trials in which Harry had used his fame to help Narcissa, but in the end Draco had had to accept the fact that Harry was, in fact, the Saviour of the wizarding world.

Voldemort would have destroyed them all, one way or another.

"Mocking," Scorpius now repeated between chewing on his dog´s ear.

"See, he agrees," Harry said, nodding towards the little boy. "And he seems hungry."

Draco sighed in obvious frustration: "Fine. But don´t complain if it´ll turn out to be a disaster."

He lifted Scorpius on his hip and followed Potter out of the room.

He would have liked nothing more to go home and get some rest; he was still in pain, and he had hardly slept that night.

Yet going home was not necessarily the most pleasant prospect, thus he actually welcomed the delay, immediately calling himself a coward afterwards.

-

Silence filled the car until Draco said, "This is awkward."

"Why, because we´re being civil around each other?"

"You know what I mean, Potter. We can never be friends, you´re too... Gryffindor, for Merlin´s sake, and I´m... still the same."

"We´ll see about that," Harry said confidently, aware that Draco rolled his eyes at this.

Scorpius seemed utterly entranced by the buildings he could see passing by outside; Harry had transfigured a spare broom into a safety seat for him, and he seemed quite comfortable, contrary to his father.

"Nice car," Draco now said tentatively, obviously trying to make an effort.

Harry subdued a grin, as it was hard to believe that his Volvo V70 was really up to Malfoy´s taste, apart from the fact that it was a Muggle means of transport: "Thanks. I actually mainly bought it because of its length, it´s perfect for transporting brooms without having to shrink them every time."

Draco nodded, obviously having exhausted everything he had to say on the subject, and remained silent for the rest of the ride.

-

They had breakfast at a Muggle place that was simply called "Granny´s" and promised to serve the best pancakes in town.

"Do you come here often?" Draco asked while he cut Scorpius´ pancakes into small pieces. The little boy carefully picked on piece up and stuffed it into his mouth; obviously liking it, he quickly took another one.

"I´ve been a regular guest of late," Harry admitted. "Ginny and I broke up some time ago, so I´m glad to get out of the house."

Draco averted his eyes: "That must have been a blow," he murmured.

Harry shrugged and nodded at the same time: "Yeah... it just didn´t work, so in the end we´re better off like this."

"Do you have kids?"

"No, never got round to that. What about you; you never married, did you?"

Draco suddenly felt the blood rushing in his ears. It was far too crowded in this place, and the noise seemed to drown out Potter´s words.

_We shouldn´t have come here_, he thought. _Add another mistake onto the pile_. Not being able to lead a normal life was just one of them.

"Mal- Draco?"

"No," he said with an effort, astonished at how much it hurt. "I never did. Look, Potter, I don´t think I can do this little heart-to-heart. I´m rubbish at this. Could we just... get done and leave?"

Harry regarded him curiously: "Sure."

If he had offended Potter, the other wizard did not let it on. They finished their meal in silence, and Draco did his best to avoid Potter´s gaze.

Harry wondered what had suddenly gotten into Malfoy; on their way to his flat, the blond wizard seemed increasingly nervous, wringing his hands and staring out of the window wide-eyed.

When Harry stopped in front of the house Draco and his son were living in, Malfoy looked around before opening the door: "Thank you," he said quietly. "And... sorry. It´s just... complicated."

With that, he got out. After he had lifted Scorpius out of his seat, he walked towards the door with wide strides, not looking back once.

Harry noticed that his posture still looked a little askew, and he had winced a few times when Scorpius had wiggled in his grip.

Biting his lip, Harry decided to take the day off; there was absolutely no reason to delay his trip to Wiltshire.

-

Draco did his best to act normal and hide his fear when they entered the house. As soon as they were in the narrow hall, Scorpius wiggled in his grip, impatient to be let down, but Draco held on to him, despite the pain in his ribs it caused to errupt anew.

He had to make sure it was safe first.

Slowly, Draco walked through to the kitchen, glancing into the living-room and his small study, then turned and climbed the stairs to the first floor. He still had to remove the meanwhile dried bloodstains; he´d do it during Scorpius´ nap after lunch.

After making sure that no one was upstairs either, he set his little boy down and followed him as he toddled off into his room.

Scorpius´ favourite pastime currently was building towers with his wooden bricks, and then knocking them over when they had gained a sufficient height.

Draco settled down with his son and played with him, but his mind was elsewhere. He did not know what had happened after he had Flooed Scorpius and himself to St Mungo´s, did not know where Jared had gone or wether he intended to come back anytime soon. He was too unpredictable.

The rest of the flat had seemed untouched, and the lamps in the hall as well as Scorpius´ nightlight had still been lit when they had come in; maybe Jared had fled after they had gone, afraid of the Muggle police. Though Draco knew that Jared would find that very unlikely, he was not one to take risks when it came that.

Slowly, Draco got to his feet, holding his ribs: "I´ll be right back," he told Scorpius, who was too deeply immersed in balancing his bricks on top of each other to mind. He seemed to have forgotten what had happened, or maybe he was repressing it.

He went into his bedroom, unmade bed and all, and cautiously peeled out of his robe. He was indeed still in his pyjamas, which he shed now as well, unceremoniously dropping them on the floor. He did not need to look into a mirror to know that his chest, ribcage and abdomen were heavily bruised, and that his left shoulder very likely did not look any better.

When he did look into the mirror however, he could see that a bruise was forming on his left temple, and hoped that Potter had not noticed it. He had been lucky, he reminded himself, not to have sustained any other visible injuries this time.

He would have had to cast a glamour charm, and since every single magical outburst of that night very likely would have been investigated, the Aurors would have wanted what he had used it for. Unfortunately, healing charms were requiring a stronger kind of spells than he was allowed to use.

He had been lucky to get away with the explanation he had used this time; no one had doubted that the ´surge of magic´ MacKenzie had been so happy to rub into his face had been caused by Scorpius´ dreams.

Well, no one except Potter maybe. Draco had no intention however to tell his former school rival the truth: that Jared had broken in, drunk as a newt, and had come bolting up the stairs in order to ´talk to Draco´.

Draco unvoluntarily shivered as he recalled how Jared had launched himself upon him while Draco was still struggling to shake off sleep, and had tried to undress him: "´come on, don´t play hard to get´" he had slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol, and had tried to kiss the slighter man underneath him, ´you´ve been playing hide-and-seek long enough now, I deserve-´

At that, Draco had managed to knee him in his groin. An elusive moment of victory while he only wanted to get away from the brute, feverishly trying to find a way to shake him off long enough to get Scorpius and flee; Jared had recovered amazingly quickly however, and had seized and thrown Draco off the bed with enough force for him to hit the chest of drawers on the opposite wall.

He was seeing stars, and pain shot through his torso; coughing and wheezing, he had scrambled away from Jared, who was coming after him; out of instinct, his foot had shot up and hit the man in the groin once more. With an unearthly howl, since the spot was still sensitive from before, Jared clutched his bits and fell back onto the bed.

Draco had somehow gotten to his feet and ran into Scorpius´ room; he put his confidence in the belief that Jared would not lay a hand on him while he had Scorpius in his arms.

He was shaking so hard that he that he would have hesitated to Apparate even if he had wanted to; but he could not risk to alert the Aurors anyway, as he wasn´t sure they would believe it had been an emergency. He would floo to Malfoy Manor instead.

He had made it to the stairs, with the sleepy child clutched tightly to himself, when Jared caught up with them. "You little slut, you won´t take him away from me," the man had hissed, and the memory of what had followed caused Draco to get goosebumps.

He sat down on the bed, wringing his hands, and having absolutely no idea what to do next. How could he protect his child from Jared? Should he move again? He inwardly groaned at that thought; he liked living in London, and he was tired of hiding.

He stared down on his hands: if anyone would have told him in school that he´d voluntarily have breakfast with Potter one day, he´d have declared them mental. Yet the war and its aftermath had changed a lot of things, just as it had changed people. Including himself, and maybe Potter.

Whatever it was, he had not been able to re-ignite his old hatred for the boy-who-lived, even though the other worked for the damn Ministry.

Maybe he should have tried to pull himself together, should have tried to make amends of some sorts; maybe Potter would be able to help him. If only he weren´t so damn proud, he chided himself, laughing bitterly at the thought a moment later. What good was pride when it prevented you from getting help, but not from getting beaten the shit out of you?

What a jerk you are, he told himself. His life was so messed up that he couldn´t even remember what it had been like to feel secure.

-

Narcissa Malfoy had changed little over the years. She concealed her astonishment well after a house-elf had announced the presence of Auror Potter, and had bade him welcome with every ounce of politeness she could muster. Like her son, Harry had not seen her since the trials, and he was surprised by how well she seemed to be holding up, despite her husband being in Azkaban.

After the house-elf had brought them tea, Harry got straight to the point: "I am here because of Draco," he said, noticing how she immediately tensed, and told her what had transpired.

She looked down, trying to keep her poised face, yet she seemed distressed.

"What is the reason for your visit, Mr Potter?" she asked quietly, her voice quavering a little.

"I couldn´t help but think that there was something your son wouldn´t tell me, and I have the feeling that he needs help."

"Why?"

"He looked rather worse for wear," Harry said. "He seemed worried and miserable, to be frank."

"That is not what I meant," Narcissa replied. "Why do you want to help him?"

Harry considered her for a moment; he had been wrong. She _had_ changed over the years, if you looked more closely; there were fine lines on her face, probably edged into the skin by worry.

"He deserves a second chance, is all," he eventually said. "He seems very different."

Narcissa´s eyes narrowed: "Do you intend to make him into some sort of _pet project_, Mr Potter?"

Harry barely refrained himself from rolling his eyes. "No, as a matter of fact I don´t," he replied quietly. "But I was impressed by how good he was with his son, and maybe I´m doing it for Scorpius´ sake as well. Is that so inconceivable?"

Narcissa folded her arms: "Well, it would be, were it not you. The Saviour." Her tone held no spite as she said this, but she watched him warily.

"Well then, I was hoping you could tell me whom exactly Draco is afraid of."

At this, the blonde witch averted her eyes; apparently, Harry had guessed correctly: there was a face to Draco´s fear.

When she looked up again, she shook her head: "I do not know his name, Draco has never revealed his identity to me. It might be a Muggle for all I know."

"Who is he?"

"You must understand, Mr Potter, that my son turned out to be... drawn towards other males rather than women." Narcissa´s voice was very quiet now. "A few years ago, he became involved with someone... whom he could not be happy with in the long run. The... man was using violence and began to threaten Draco, to threaten Scorpius, more precisely. That was why Draco finally moved away."

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. He had been expecting something involving other former Death Eaters, some kind of revenge or something like that, but not this... Draco was gay and had apparently been in an abusive relationship.

"If I have been informed correctly, Draco has moved twice within the past few years," he said.

Narcissa nodded unhappily: "The man... his former partner had found out where he had moved to, and had broken into Draco´s apartment. It was dreadful. Draco managed to escape, he took my grandson and Flooed themselves here. Fortunately, Scorpius was fast asleep, so he did not see...," she swallowed. "The blood."

Harry nodded. "It seems very possible that the same man has found out Draco´s latest whereabouts once more," he said. "I had the impression that your son was injured when I met him, even though he tried to hide it."

Narcissa paled at his words. "I see," she murmured, sagging almost imperceptibly.

Harry stirred his meanwhile half-cold tea, giving her a moment to let this information sink in.

Unexpectedly, Narcissa straightened up all of a sudden: "I´d very much appreciate your help," she said. "Someone has got to stop this, and if Draco is unable to do so, he might need someone like you."

Harry couldn´t but wonder what her husband would say if he ever found out, and had a hard time not to grin at that.

"Who is Scorpius´ mother at all?" he asked to distract himself from the grimly entertaining image of a furious yet helpless Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa suddenly looked uncomfortable: "I´d rather you ask Draco about that," she said.

Harry nodded: "It´d be much easier though if you would at least tell me the name of the... of Draco´s former partner."

She had the decency to blush.

-

Draco flinched violently as Jared forcefully opened the door. The wizard had just finished scrubbing the bloodstains out of the carpet, kneeling on the stairs. He could have used magic for cleaning, but he had felt like he needed to do something with his hands, despite the aches in his body, to keep them from trembling.

He slowly turned around now, fearing an assault from behind, yet it never came.

Jared just stood there, looking flushed, but the initially hard expression on his face seemed to melt away: "Sweetheart," he said, sounding anxious all of a sudden, a mixture of worry and concern in his eyes. "Are you all right? I´m so sorry... I overreacted, I just want us to be a family again!"

Draco slowly pulled himself up to his full height, doing his best not to wince as his ribs reminded him that he was_ not_ all right, and hoping to be able to bar the way if need be; Scorpius was napping upstairs.

"Say something," Jared pleaded. "Can you forgive me?"

"I have forgiven you too many times already," Draco said, not managing to sound as cold as he had intended.

Jared looked desperate: "Please, honey... for the boy?"

"The boy was scared to death, and he had to spend a day in hospital," Draco said, feeling as though he had ended up in a bad Muggle movie.

Jared ran his hands through his very short hair: "I didn´t mean to... I´m sorry, Dray, so sorry..." He sank onto the bottom step, looking devastated.

Draco´s heart ached at the sight, he wanted nothing more than to pull the man into his arms and tell him that it was okay, that they´d be fine. Only he couldn´t. He finally had found the strength to withstand, hadn´t he? Jared had gone too far as he had risked injuring Scorpius, and that was where Draco was drawing a line.

"I don´t believe you," he heard himself say. "You broke into the house and injured us both, I can´t believe you anymore."

Jared was hiding his face behind his hands, his shoulders were shaking. "You don´t know what you´re saying..."

"I do. And I want you to leave now. I want you to leave and never come back."

Sobbing and gasping, Jared got to his feet: "You can´t keep him away from me," he said, repeating the phrase over and over as he moved towards the door. "You can´t."

When he was gone, Draco closed his eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths and clutching the scrubber tightly.

He knew Jared wouldn´t stay away from them, but he did not want to run away this time. He had to be strong, prepare himself.

He would repair the door, which was still broken from Jared´s violent entering on the night before, and would find himself a non-magical weapon for self-defense. He was sick and tired of living in fear.

Jared´s words were ringing in his mind: _I just want us to be a family again_. A sense of longing washed over him so powerful that he could have wept.

-

As soon as her house-elf had accompanied Harry Potter to the door, Narcissa Malfoy got up and strode over to a small cabinet in a corner. She took a bottle of Sherry out of it, poured a generous amount of it into a glass and drank it down in one big gulp. She was shaking, and the slight burn of the alcohol was a pleasant distraction from her anxiety.

He had found Draco again.

Clenching her fist, she inwardly cursed the fact that she was under house arrest, a relatively mild punishment for accommodating the Dark Lord and his followers, and therefore unable to do what she would have loved to do right now: go and find the man who was making her son´s life miserable.

Her hand was still trembling when she put the bottle back into the cabinet, but she managed to take a deep breath and force herself to calm down: if anyone could help Draco, it probably was Potter.

And it was just a blessing, she told herself, that Lucius did not know about this.

**--**

**To Be Continued**

**--**


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks, once more, to those who reviewed, and for the 33 people for putting the story on alert!

Enjoy!

**-o-**

**Along Came the Saviour**

**-o-O-o-**

o

**Part 3**

o

Jared had not turned up again for several days.

Draco hardly slept, as he kept waking with a start at every single sound. He found it hard to concentrate on his work, and Scorpius, who had not started kindergarten yet as he would not turn three for another four months, did of course perceive his father´s jumpiness, and was whining a lot.

He usually was with a nanny for a few hours a day, but Draco had told her that he´d have some time off and be able to look after Scorpius himself; he did not want to risk her witnessing anything.

For some reason, he couldn´t bring himself to ask his mother to babysit, which she´d gladly have done; he did not want his son to spend more time in Malfoy Manor than necessary.

The place held too many bad memories.

He was sitting at his desk one day, brooding over an article he had just begun to translate while Scorpius was napping, when a tapping sound pulled him out of his thoughts. An owl was outside the window, impatient to be let in.

It was a plain tawny one, just the sort the Ministry was using. He let the bird in and removed the letter from its leg with slightly trembling fingers; the writing was unfamiliar, but it did not look official.

He unrolled the parchment and read:

_Malfoy-_

_I hope this finds you well. _

_My godson Teddy and I will be going to the zoo on Sunday, and since he´s your and Scorpius´ cousin, I was wondering whether you might like to join us. _

_Send your answer by return owl._

_Harry Potter_

Draco stared at the words for a long time. He was half-inclined to dismiss the letter and send the owl back without a reply, but somehow that did not seem appropriate.

He was not particularly keen on meeting Teddy, but on the other hand, Scorpius had never been to the zoo before, and he´d certainly enjoy it; it would be good for both of them to spend a few hours outside for a change.

He took his quill and wrote his answer on the same piece of parchment:

_Potter, _

_I am still not sure whether we can be friends, but I´ll meet you there. Just tell me the time._

_Draco Malfoy_

_-  
_

Harry could not subdue a jolt of pleasant surprise when he actually saw Malfoy standing next to the gates of the zoo, waiting with an air of nervousness. Scorpius was sitting in a stroller, quietly eyeing the passers-by. He had just woken up from his nap and was still a little bleary.

Harry had half-expected Malfoy not to show up after all, but there he was, actually looking relieved as he spotted him.

Draco had indeed considered going somewhere else instead, but in the end had decided that the zoo was not likely a place to coincidentally run into Jared. He still thought it awkward to be meeting with Potter, though, and was slightly taken aback when Teddy Lupin shook his hand politely and grinned disarmingly.

The boy clearly couldn´t have heard anything about him, otherwise he certainly wouldn´t behave so unprejudiced, would he?

Harry smiled: it was obvious that Draco did his best not to show how flabbergasted he was. He shook Malfoy´s hand himself while Teddy knelt down in front of the stroller, talking to Scorpius, who was hiding behind his stuffed dog again.

"He is like that," Harry said by way of a greeting. "He´s not so easily biased."

It was in fact almost painful how Teddy was uniting his father´s calm, observant demeanour and his mother´s buoyancy in his character.

Draco nodded: Teddy had already managed to coax Scorpius into dropping his dog into his lap so they could shake hands as well.

"Good," he murmured, clearly at a loss of what else to say. Why did Potter always have to be so dead-on anyway?

The wizard in question motioned towards the entrance then: "Shall we?"

Once they had passed the cashpoint, Teddy kept walking beside the stroller; Scorpius seemed fascinated by him, leaning forward in his seat to peer up at him and beaming every time the older boy talked to him.

In fact, Teddy seemed to hold a greater attraction than the animals most of the time, though Scorpius was utterly fascinated by the giraffes, which he stared at open-mouthed, and the penguins ("pengwins"). Teddy asked wether he was allowed to lift the little boy up, so he could have a better look at the small birds, and did so when Draco nodded.

The boys were talking animatedly while watching, pointing at something now and then, and seemed to get along very well. Harry was proud of his godson, who fortunately did not know that Malfoy had despised his father in school while Remus had been teaching them.

The blond wizard seemed to think the same, as the tension in his body slowly decreased.

"I often came here with him when he was Scorpius´ age," Harry said, his eyes never leaving Teddy and his small charge. "He always wanted to go see the butterflies first, and I had to make sure he kept his beanie on his head, so no one would see his hair."

It took Draco a moment or two to grasp the meaning of this: "Oh, right," he said. "His mom was Nymphadora Tonks, wasn´t she?"

Harry nodded. "I was appointed his godfather before they died. I could not help thinking it´s history repeating itself, you know? I knew exactly how it was to grow up without parents, and I wanted to make things better for Teddy, to be there for him. Of course, he´s living with his grandmother, which is good."

"He seems a lovely boy, Potter," Draco said, actually smiling at the sight of Teddy and his son.

"He is," Harry´s own smile couldn´t have been more proud if he´d been Teddy real father.

"And you can call me Harry, by the way."

The atmosphere slowly changed from awkward to something akin to comfortable as they talked on. They had touched common ground, due to the children.

-

By late afternoon, Scorpius was so overwhelmed that he fell asleep.

"We should go home," Draco said, his expression suddenly weary, as though he was facing a rather unhappy prospect.

"I´ll drive you," Harry offered. After a moment´s hesitation, Draco accepted. He was tired, and glad that he did not have to go by tube, something which he did not have much patience for at the moment. His exhaustion and the strain of constantly being on alert were draining him more than he wanted to admit.

He looked even worse than he had done in hospital, which even Harry, who did not get much sleep himself, could not fail to notice; there were dark smudges underneath his eyes, and his skin was almost sickly pale.

Harry would have loved to ask him about Jared, but did not want to destroy the frail connection they had just managed to establish, so he bit his tongue.

Harry took the stroller out of the Volvo´s boot and accompanied Draco to the door; Scorpius was still fast asleep, not having woken when his father had lifted him out of the car.

"Thanks," Draco said, "I´ll manage from here."

Harry nodded: "I´ll owl you, okay?"

"Yeah..." Draco returned the other wizard´s tentative smile, and went inside.

Neither of them had seen the man who was sitting in a car that was parked across the street, or the scowl on his face.

Draco went upstairs; in Scorpius´ room, he pulled the little boy´s jacket off, then laid him into his cot and removed his shoes.

After cautiously easing pullover and trousers off as well, he tucked his son in; before turning to leave the room, he tenderly stroked over the soft hair and bent down to kiss the child on its forehead.

He was growing so fast; it seemed like the day before that Scorpius had been a baby, and Draco had never tired of watching him sleep.

-

The next time Harry sent a note, Draco did not hesitate to answer.

_Draco_, it said,

_fancy a party of chess and some fabulous, 40 years-old __Firewhiskey I found in the pantry? _

_Harry_

Draco wondered whether he should invite Potter over- it´d be easier that way, since he wouldn´t have to leave Scorpius alone with a babysitter. But what if Jared turned up, probably drunk and out of his mind? What would Potter think?

Sod it, he then decided. A week had passed since the day in the zoo, and Jared had not shown his face once. It certainly did not diminish Draco´s nervousness, but he had settled into something akin to hope- maybe Jared had found himself another punching bag, or he had simply had enough. He desperately wanted to believe the latter, even though it seemed rather unlikely.

He took a quill and wrote:

_Come on over then, eight o´clock tomorrow night? __I´ll be looking forward to checkmating you._

_Draco_

Harry smiled when he read it; Draco obviously was doing better, judging from the little jest.

Chess did not afford much talking, which seemed to suite Draco fine, and which was what Harry wanted to achieve: for the other wizard to feel comfortable in his presence.

Draco´s flat was very different from how Harry would have imagined it, bearing absolutely no reminder of the pompous house the blond wizard had grown up in. Timber floor boards, furniture made of unvarnished white or dark brown wood, a spot of crimson here, a dark green couch there, large shelves full of books. Stacks of books next to the couch as well, and in addition to that, the unmistakable presence of a young child, made known by the occasional toy lying around.

Harry had not expected to win, and it was no surprise that Draco indeed was much better at chess than him, but they spent a pleasant evening nevertheless.

Draco felt strangely reassured after Harry had gone. He had had a visitor, someone he was on sort of friendly terms with, and it had gone well. It felt like he was taking his life into his own hands again. He felt alive, and he could also feel his magic inside him, tingling through his body as though telling him how much energy he actually had.

-

His elation about this lasted exactly two days.

He had just gotten ready to go to bed when he heard something. Or maybe it had been the wind outside, he wasn´t sure.

Slowly, he made his way downstairs, straining his ears, and walked down the hall.

He hesitated; there it was again, a quiet scraping sound. He could feel the hair on his arms stand on end.

He wished he still had his wand.

Barely breathing, he tiptoed into the kitchen; everything was dark and silent, apart from the light which came in from the hall.

He stood listening hard for a while, but nothing moved. Shivers were running down the spine; he did not trust the peace.

Slowly, he moved to turn on some lights, when a voice in his head screamed alarm, and the fraction of a second later, accompanied by the rustle of clothing and the sounds of someone moving quickly, he felt himself gripped.

Jared.

Draco hardly had the time to chide himself for walking into a trap, as Jared was shaking him, hard, but he cursed himself for never getting round to buy a Muggle weapon.

"You goddamn floozie," Jared hissed, letting go of one of Draco´s arms to strike him hard across the face, "did you really think you´d get away with this? I saw him, and I saw how you were hitting on him!"

Draco could feel the taste of blood in his mouth, and his ears were ringing from the force with which Jared had hit him. He tried to break away, but Jared only gripped him harder and slammed him into the next wall with a thickening thud; Draco gasped from the pain that errupted in his back and where his head had connected with the wall. His vision began to blur, and he could hardly make out the red, angry face in front of him.

"I won´t let you cheat on me," Jared continued, hatred evident in his tone, "you´re mine, and you always will be!" He emphasized each word with a punch against Draco´s ribcage. The blond man would have doubled over, had he been able to.

He gasped for air, trying to breathe the pain away: "Let- go of me," he wheezed, "I´m not- yours..."

Another punch, into his stomach this time, had Draco whimper. He wrapped his arms around his torso as Jared suddenly let go, only to feel himself being grabbed and thrown onto the floor.

"Stop," he pleaded, as Jared hauled him up by his sleeve now: "Jared..."

The other man shoved him down with a look of disgust: "Weakling," he spat, "too flimsy to defend yourself, are you? Or do you simply have realized what a little wrench you are, and that you actually deserve what you get?"

He began to grope Draco´s pants roughly: "I´ll show you what you deserve, love, and by whom," he growled, his voice suddenly very calm, and to his horror, Draco realized that the other one was not drunk for once: he knew exactly what he was doing.

Draco tried to push him away, but to no avail: Jared was nearly twice his weight. He pulled Draco´s pyjama pants down and forced his knees apart, fumbling with his own belt and zipper. Draco screamed and kicked, only to receive another punch into his stomach, which effectively winded him.

Additional pain shot through him a moment later as Jared mercilessly forced his way into Draco´s unprepared body; the blond was still gasping for air, and now tears were running down his face as his former lover was raping him, his nails digging into Draco´s bare hipbones.

It seemed to last forever; after Jared had come, he pulled back with a grunt and stood up, pulling his zipper back up.

Draco pushed himself up on his arms, trying to scramble away; he was stopped by the kitchen counter in his back. He could feel something warm trickling down his face and his neck, as well as between his legs, but paid it no heed, as Jared advanced on him now: "We´re not done yet, you conniving little freak!" Draco, as though it would matter, hastily pulled his pants back up. He stared at Jared, despite his shame and humiliation: "Piss off," he managed to get out, his voice shaking as much as his body.

"You don´t tell me what to do!" Jared roared, but his words were unexpectedly drowned out by a shrill cry that was piercing the tense atmosphere; Draco´s heart froze.

Scorpius was standing in the door, hair dishevelled, stuffed dog in his arms, and stared at them wide-eyed. As Jared turned towards him with fresh fury on his face, he screamed once more, staring at the man who began to curse under his breath and made a step towards him, but never backing off.

The magic that had been tingling through Draco all day wanted to break loose, and suddenly, as he watched his child in danger of being injured or worse by the brute of a man hovering over him, he couldn´t control it any longer; black spots were dancing in front of his vision, but with his remaining strength, Draco ground out the word that finally released his powers: _Stupefy_.

Jared immediately froze and fell like a log.

Draco sagged.

No.

He knew he had had to breach the regulations, but he also knew the consequences would be swift and immediate.

He wanted to crawl over to his son, but before he had summoned the strength to move even one limb, several loud cracks announced the arrival of the Aurors.

He fought to stop the impending darkness, but a fresh wave of nausea swept over him while he tried to concentrate on Scorpius, his little boy, whom he could still hear sobbing in the doorway. A rush of people surrounded him, but their voices were fading into nothingness as Draco finally lost consciousness.

-

He awoke to a dull pain in his head. The bed underneath him was not his own, that was for sure, and the air smelled strange. While he tried to figure out where he might be, he slowly opened his eyes, despite his lids feeling like lead.

Bright light made him squint; why was he lying in bed in the middle of the day? He racked his brains but couldn´t recall what had happened. A figure stepped into his line of vision, and Draco tried to focus on it; his eyes didn´t seem to work properly though, as it remained slightly blurred.

"He´s awake," a male voice said rather indifferently. "Go and get the Healer, will you?"

"Who´s there?" Draco asked, blinking and annoyed that he was so helpless.

"Auror MacKenzie," the voice answered. "Do you remember what happened, Mr Malfoy?"

With a dreadfully sinking feeling, Draco suddenly registered cold fear spreading through him as it all came back to him. An Auror... Aurors... he had used magic to defend Scorpius... he tried to sit up but found he couldn´t, since one of his wrists was tied to the bed.

Panic gripped Draco now; this was bad, he was being treated like a criminal when all he had done was try and protect his child.

"Quit jerking," MacKenzie drawled, though Draco hardly heard him; his blood was rushing in his ears, and he felt nauseous.

He hardly registered the footsteps and someone adressing him; only when the new voice turned upset did he come out of his dizzy spell, yet the anger wasn´t directed at him: "...him time to become fully alert before starting to question him!"

"It´s his own fault," MacKenzie said calmly. "He tried to sit up and it did him no good."

"And I wonder why he did so," the third voice all but hissed. "Now will you please give my patient a little privacy while I tend to him!"

A moment later, Draco felt a cool hand on his forehead and opened his eyes once more. A friendly face looked down on him: "Good morning, Mr Malfoy, you are in St. Mungo´s and I am Healer Wiggins. How do you feel?"

Draco could have wept from being treated so kindly. "A little dizzy, thanks..." he murmured. "And I can´t see properly."

"That´s due to the heavy concussion you have suffered," the Healer said while examining Draco´s eyes by the light of his wand-tip. "Now that you are awake I can heal it in no time. You´ve been unconscious for a day and a half. The majority of your other injuries have been mended already, most of them won´t even leave scars. You do have a ruptured spleen however, which will take a little longer to mend."

He eyed Draco sympathetically for a moment: "You´ve been lucky that you managed to stun the attacker, Mr Malfoy."

"Yes," Draco murmured. "I guess." He wondered how much Wiggins knew about his situation, though the handcuff on his wrist was likely enough of information anyway, and there was always the Dark Mark on his arm, of course.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment: "Where´s my son?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer. The Healer smiled a little, however: "He´s been here yesterday," he said, while he helped Draco drink a potion. "A delightful little boy, if I may say so."

His patient´s face lit up at these words. Draco felt an almost painful tug at his heart when he thought of Scorpius: he couldn´t bear the thought of losing him, or that the little boy had seen him like this, unconscious, injured and tied to the bed.

The little boy had been terrified when Draco had last seen him, and he sincerely hoped that he was okay now.

Before he could inquire as to who was looking after Scorpius however, the Auror stepped up to the bed again: "If you are quite done, I´d like a word with Malfoy now," he said harshly.

The Healer turned round to him, obviously not intimidated at the least: "I strongly advise you not to upset him," he said in an equally haughty tone. "Otherwise I will use my authority to have you replaced by someone else. Mr Malfoy has been through a physical and emotional ordeal, after all."

He adressed Draco once more: "I will be looking in later," he said reassuringly and left.

-

Draco tried to focus on MacKenzie: "Where is my son?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

MacKenzie looked as though he couldn´t care less, but answered at last: "He´s with Auror Weasley´s family," he said indifferently. Relief flooded through Draco, though he didn´t quite understand it: "Is Auror Weasley here as well?"

"No," MacKenzie didn´t seem to want to elaborate any more than necessary, "but after your son had been brought to the Ministry´s nursery it didn´t take long until his wife arrived, having heard about the incident, and took him with her."

Thank Merlin, Draco thought, feeling shaky.

The Auror didn´t give him time to process this, however: "You do realize that you´ve violated the conditions which you are supposed to abide by, don´t you?"

"It was self-defense," Draco answered, knowing that MacKenzie was going to ignore it.

"You attacked a Muggle," MacKenzie continued, indeed pretending that he hadn´t heard Draco, "we had to have two Obliviators working on him."

Draco subdued a sneer; MacKenzie deliberately made it sound much worse than it was.

"He was attacking my son," Draco said, gathering all his strength to sound firm, "and he had attacked me first. I´m sure you have noticed the blood," he couldn´t help from adding. The thought of MacKenzie very probably knowing that Jared had raped him was mortifying.

"As it is, Mr ... Johnson is unable to testify, as he didn´t respond too well to being obliviated." An unreadable expression spread on MacKenzie´s face. Draco didn´t know why, but it made him feel uneasy.

"For all we know, you could have provoked the attack or even put him under the Imperius charm." MacKenzie´s gaze seemed to pierce him.

Draco´s stomach dropped. "I see you´ve passed the verdict already," he said bitterly.

MacKenzie smirked. "Oh, I´d never do that. It is not my place to decide wether you´ll be allowed to keep the child after you come back from Azkaban. I have just depicted the situation for you."

Draco restrained himself from saying _the hell you have_. All he knew was that he was very likely not going to come out of this as a free man, since the Aurors took violating conditions very seriously.

He was going to lose Scorpius. He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes and was glad that the Auror was finally turning to leave: "You are being watched, Malfoy. I´d not try anything if I were you."

Draco didn´t bother to tell him that he felt way too exhausted anyway, and apart from that, he was still fucking shackled to the bed, wasn´t he?

He closed his eyes after MacKenzie had closed the door behind him, feeling shaken and miserable.

**--**

**To Be Continued**

**--**


	4. Chapter 4

That´s it, guys, the final chapter. Thank you all and have a very Harry (and Draco) Christmas!

**-o-**

**Along Came the Saviour**

**-o-O-o-**

o

**Part 4**

o

Draco flinched when someone addressed him a little while later, not having heard Healer Wiggins approach: "I need you to take this pain-relieving potion," he said, supporting Draco´s head so he could swallow the liquid from a plain white cup.

"Thanks." Draco looked as though he was wondering why the other wizard was so kind to him. Being a Healer did not necessary mean being nice, as Draco had experienced in the past.

This one seemed to be, however: "I did not want to mention it while the Auror was here," he said, fiddling with the empty cup. "Yet I feel it´s my duty to inform you about the kinds of counselling we are offering."

"Counselling?"

"For patients who have been submitted to bodily violence."

Draco took a moment to comprehend: "Oh," he said. "Oh... no. No. You don´t understand... it was... he didn´t..." He closed his eyes, hating his disability to find the right words.

"We have been together," he eventually said, still feeling the other´s look on himself. "He... he´s not good with words, so he... resorts to other means."

Wiggins eyed him with an incredulous look, then he nodded: "Very well. Just keep in mind that there are people to talk to if need be."

All of a sudden, Draco found himself rather shaky once more; _people to talk to_ had never once worked before.

-

Draco must have dozed off at one point, because he woke up to a slight tremor of the mattress, and a moment later, he felt a warm little body against his own, and two small hands patting his face: "Daddy?"

Accompanied by a jolt of pleasant surprise, Draco opened his eyes; his vision had improved, for he could see his son´s face quite clearly. The little boy was hovering over him and staring into his face anxiously; his stuffed dog was lying on Draco´s chest.

"Baby." Draco swept Scorpius up in his arms, feeling the little one´s arms wrapping around his neck, and buried his face in his son´s hair, inhaling the familiar sweet scent.

It felt like someone had given him a pain-reliever for everything which had been ailing him, had put a soothing hand over the raw and hurting spot deep inside him.

When they finally let go, Scorpius remained pressed against his father: "Daddy come home?" he asked hopefully. Draco stroked his soft hair, not knowing how to answer: "Not yet, squirrel," he said. "Are you having a good time with Aunt Hermione?"

"´Mynee," Scorpius nodded, "gaved me cookies. And Unca Won too! He whinny when Scowpius wide back!"

Draco found it hard to subdue his tears once more as he listened to his son´s words, the little boy was so precious.

Out of the corner of his eyes he now registered someone standing next to the bed; to his surprise, it was neither Hermione nor Ron, but Harry.

At the same time, a lot of things fell into place; Draco noticed that he wasn´t tied to the bed anymore, and that Harry´s expression was rather apologetic and full of concern.

"Hermione said he hardly slept last night," Harry said softly, his eyes on Scorpius, who was snuggling up with Draco once more, pressing his face against his father´s cheek and putting one thumb into his mouth contentedly.

Draco soaked his child´s proximity in as though it was oxygene while he looked at Harry, who struggled to find the appropriate words: "I´m sorry I wasn´t there, I was assigned to another case," he finally said. "I came home very late and went straight to bed, I only found Hermione´s note this morning. I´ll keep MacKenzie off your back from now on."

"You don´t need to feel obliged to protect me," Draco said feebly, unsure as to wether Potter actually felt as guilty as he looked. When the Auror´s gaze finally met his, however, Draco could see that Potter did.

"I could have prevented... you know," Harry said, motioning towards Draco´s wrist. "I wouldn´t have let them treat you like that."

"It´s okay," Draco said quietly. "I´ve been out of it most of the time anyway."

"How do you feel?" Harry´s voice was so gentle that Draco instantly knew that the Auror was informed about the exact extent of his injuries.

Draco averted his eyes. "It´s not like it hasn´t happen before, after all."

They were silent for a moment.

Harry uncomfortably shifted on his feet: "What triggered it, Draco?" he then asked quietly, in a tone of concern.

Draco still did not look at him: "Jared did not take it well that I moved away from him. He somehow found me and broke in, trying to convince me to come back." That wasn´t so far from the truth, he thought, and therefore couldn´t be counted as a lie.

Deciding that he would ask again later, Harry let it rest for the moment. "Has anyone told you what will happen next?"

"MacKenzie made sure to use the word ´Azkaban´," Draco replied, doing his best to sound casual about it.

The dark-haired wizard nodded: "He´s a right bastard," he scowled without a moment´s hesitation. "I guess he enjoyed it."

For the first time this day, Draco smiled, if a little strained. "What is going to happen?" he then asked almost timidly.

Harry sighed: "There´ll be a Hearing at the ministry."

"It was self-defense," Draco whispered. "I wouldn´t have used magic otherwise, I would never risk losing..." he broke off, painfully aware that Scorpius was listening.

Harry nodded, he knew what the blond couldn´t say aloud.

"Knowing MacKenzie, he will try to make it look as though you provoked Johnson," he said thoughtfully. "If a Muggle court was responsible for it, I´d say you should press charges against him. On account of... what he did to you."

Draco´s stomach jolted unpleasantly; he was not particularly shaken by what Jared had done anymore. He couldn´t imagine anyone taking it seriously anyway, to understand that it had nothing to do with love anymore, that it had just been Jared trying to intimidate Draco into submission.

Potter´s gaze never left him though, telling him that he _was_ taking it seriously. "Since that is not an option," the Auror continued calmly, "you should agree to take Veritaserum to make sure to get a fair treatment."

Draco remained silent. He knew that the media would be all over the case, and he didn´t want the whole world to know about how Jared had abused him, how he had let it happen for Scorpius´ sake.

For most of the Wizengamot it wouldn´t be coming as a surprise, of course, but Potter didn´t seem to know that, and he felt too exhausted to enlighten him. If he really wanted to get rid of Jared, in the end he didn´t have much of a choice, did he? And with Potter´s support, he might actually succeed this time.

Harry indeed suspected there was more to it, but he saw how tired Draco´s face was, how all this was wearing on him. "I will leave Scorpius here with you for a bit, if you like," he offered. "I´ll go and make a few calls in the meantime."

Draco looked grateful; he nodded, another smile ghosting over his pale face.

-

Harry left the room and put some wards on the door which would only allow the Healer and nurses access apart from himself, then he went to have a coffee and read the papers. He didn´t have any calls to make, he just wanted to give Draco some time with his son. He had seen how afraid Draco was to lose the boy, how devoted he was to his child, and it had touched him deeply.

He returned to Draco´s room an hour later and found both father and son asleep, snuggled up with each other, Scorpius still lying on Draco´s chest.

Harry quietly sat down on one of the chairs, the same he had been sitting in the day before, unsuccessfully trying to will Draco into waking up. The blond wizard´s face had been too pale, too lifeless; Healer Wiggins had informed Harry about the kind of his injuries, and Harry had cringed when he had heard what Jared had done.

While he had been waiting, Harry had had enough time to study Draco´s appearance, and it had not astonished him to see how haggard the blond wizard really was, now that he wore nothing than a thin hospital gown.

He must have been living in constant terror.

Half an hour later, the Healer came in. He took one look at the scene and beckoned Harry outside so as not to disturb the sleepers.

"I don´t know the exact circumstances," he said, after having introduced himself, "but Mr Malfoy seems to be in quite a bit of a predicament."

"What do you mean?" Harry could imagine what the other wizard was going to tell him, but he feigned ignorance.

Wiggins shrugged: "I mean that I´ve seen other cases of domestic violence, and this clearly seems one of them. There is plenty of evidence of former injuries, for example, and then there´s the way Mr Malfoy obviously deals with being violated."

Harry narrowed his eyes:"I don´t understand."

The Healer looked sorrowful all of a sudden: "He does not seem to have realized yet that he actually is a victim."

-

Harry usually loathed to use his fame to his advantage, but on this occasion it ensured that he didn´t have to heed the visiting hours, and it had also helped with getting MacKenzie assigned to another case.

The Aurors weren´t bound to regular hours anyway, but Scorpius was, no matter what the circumstances were.

Draco awoke when it was already dark; Scorpius was drooling on the hospital shirt in his sleep, eliciting a smile from his father. He absent-mindedly stroked his son´s fine hair, grateful that the child hadn´t been taken away while he had been asleep, and only noticed Harry´s presence when the dark-haired wizard got up from his chair.

"Thanks," Draco whispered when their eyes met, and Harry nodded, leaning against the bed´s frame: "Jared has abused you before, hasn´t he?"

Draco looked as though he was about to flinch, yet he didn´t avert his gaze: "Yes," his voice was barely audible.

"And you were injured yourself when Scorpius was in hospital."

"He threw us down the stairs," Draco whispered.

Harry folded his arms in order to keep his hands from clenching into fists: "Why didn´t you tell me?" he asked.

Draco looked ashamed: "It was so humiliating," he whispered. "I did not want you to think I was weak. But... he threatened Scorpius, he said he´d take him away if I told anyone."

Harry found it hard to keep his calm: "You´re a wizard, for Merlin´s sake," he ground out. "There would have been ways to disguise yourself!"

The colour drained from Draco´s face as he sought for words now: "And what could I have done?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "Give up the life we were leading and hide?"

"Yes, that would have been one option. Rather than moving around, trying to shake him off."

"Not, it wouldn´t have. Jared knows too much, and without proper magic I couldn´t have disguised myself, remember? I would have had to apply for him to be obliviated."

"And why didn´t you? You could at least have tried to get some help, if only for Scorpius´ sake!"

"Harry..." Draco´s voice sounded pained. "I did. The Ministry knew about this. There even was a hearing before the Wizengamot, and they had evidence."

The shock mingled with surprise on Harry´s face was genuine:"_What_? How can they-_ fuck_, Draco, I don´t believe this! Why didn´t you tell me! When was that? What evidence?"

Draco swallowed, surprised by how emotional Potter was reacting: "About one year ago... and they had the memories of a squad of Obliviators. I... I´ve been... I´ve ended up in a Muggle hospital once, after Jared had... taken his anger out on me. So they had to obliviate the staff."

"Okay...," Harry eventually said, trying to regain his composure. "Okay. I´ll... see about that."

He ran a hand through his hair in order to control his agitation, concentrating on the most important matter at hand: "Still, Draco- if the guy doesn´t even refrain from hurting a child, he has to be rendered harmless, in my opinion."

Draco subconsciously tightened his grip around his son: "He never did that before. He... he was so angry..."

Harry snorted: "Stop defending him, will you? He´s the reason you´re lying here, waiting for your ruptured spleen and your concussion to mend."

To Harry´s horror, Draco´s eyes suddenly swam. "I loved him," he whispered. "I don´t expect you to understand it... but I loved him; he was so different in the beginning. And I terribly miss the man I fell in love with."

Sighing, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed; he knew that feeling too well himself. What a rotten situation it was.

Wordlessly, he stretched out his arm and laid his hand on Draco´s shoulder for comfort. "I´m sorry," he said quietly.

The blond wizard drew a shaky breath: "Where is he now?"

Harry shook his head: "At home, I suppose."

Draco looked alarmed: "You don´t... know where he is?"

Anger was surging through Harry once more: "The Ministry didn´t see any need to keep him. Well, what do you expect after what you´ve just told me?"

Still shaking, Draco took that in.

Harry gently squeezed his shoulder: "You´re safe for now, he can´t come here," he said quietly.

"He´ll come back though," Draco whispered. "He won´t stop until he has gotten what he wants."

Harry suddenly felt a strong urge to punch Jared and protect Draco. His hand never left the other´s shoulder: "I´ll help you," he said. "If you let me."

-

That night, Harry paced up and down his living room while pondering the matter. He knew there were still a lot of people in the Ministry who were thinking quite radical, and who didn´t bother to differentiate between Death Eaters and people like Malfoy, who had been drawn into following Voldemort for the wrong reasons, and had wanted to get out once they had seen what was really happening.

Of course, nearly every Death Eater would claim he had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, or had been bribed, if not even under the Imperius Curse, though Harry couldn´t but wonder wether the long years of dealing with those people had not given the Ministry officials enough experience to sort those things out.

He scowled; someone obviously had ´forgotten´ to mention Draco´s request in his file, or that there had been an incident which had required Obliviators before.

He also could hardly imagine how the Wizengamot could be so partial nowadays, but on the other hand, hearings requested by non-Ministry related persons were a different matter; there was no audience, and the whole procedure was less pompous, probably often to the requesting person´s disadvantage. Harry knew that Kingsley Shacklebolt was working on diminishing the Wizengamot´s power to a level where impartial Ministry officials had more influence.

This however required the disposal of anyone who was still using his job for personal vendettas against former Death Eaters first, which was why the issue was progressing only slowly. Even the most even-tempered person could suddenly become passionately violent when confronted with another remainder of the Dark Arts- anger and hate could flare up unexpectedly and with unpredictable consequences. There were still plenty of Dark Artefacts around, and they were still claiming lives if not handled with care.

Having made up his mind, Harry suddenly knew what to do, apart from having decided that he´d have to talk to the Minister about this.

The Magical Law Enforcement Squad was bound to have recorded the memories; he only needed to get his hands on them. If the Ministry was playing foul, he certainly could put his Invisibility Cloak to good use once more.

-

Two hours later, Harry very carefully poured a memory into his Pensieve and leaned forward. A moment later, he found himself in a hospital room; Harry had never been to a Muggle hospital, but he assumed that this was an Intensive Care Unit, judging from the amount of machines beeping in the background.

A young woman clad in white was joining two other doctors who were discussing something at a patient´s bed. When she stepped up to them, they both moved to the side a little, clearing the view enough for Harry to see that it was Draco who was lying there. He seemed unconscious, and his face was white where it wasn´t bruised. His temple bore a wound which had been stapled together, and he had a tube up his nose.

Harry walked around the bed to get a better look on the blond; he was clad in a hospital gown, several more tubes disappeared underneath it, and his left arm was heavily bandaged. Harry´s heart ached at the sight; Draco looked as though he was barely alive.

He had to pull himself together in order to listen to the doctors: "...fractured. Found him at the emergency entrance, but it doesn´t look like he´s made it there on his own. Didn´t have a wallet or any ID on him."

"Has the police been informed?"

"Yes, they have sent someone already."

"What do you think´s happened?"

"He´s obviously been beaten up. He woke up shortly and claimed that he´d fallen down a flight of stairs, but we don´t think that´s true. You could tell that some of those bruises haven´t been new. If I didn´t know better, I´d say it´s a case of domestic violence."

"It could be, though."

"Well... there´s more," he continued, all of a sudden looking uncomfortable. "We don´t have any explanation for it, but... you see..." he pulled the blankets back a little.

The latest arrival stared, then gasped audibly. "Is that what I think it is?"

He nodded. "He´s... well, pregnant."

Harry looked at the small but unmistakable bump and suddenly felt a lump in his throat.

-

"You gave birth to Scorpius, didn´t you?"

Draco stared at his hands, nodding eventually.

"Who´s the other father?" Harry asked after a moment of shocked silence.

"Who do you think it is?" Draco whispered, still not looking at him.

Comprehension slowly dawned on Harry. "Jared?"

Draco nodded once more, finally looking up: "I didn´t whore around, if that´s what you thought," he said in a low voice.

Harry ran his hand through his hair: "Look, I did not mean to imply... shit, Malfoy, how did that happen? How did you end up with such a scumbag?"

Draco began to hug himself: "He did not know about my past," he said, his voice quavering a little. "He did not treat me like dirt just as everyone else at that time."

When Harry stared at him disbelievingly, he hastily continued: "He wasn´t... like that in the beginning. He... he was attentive, funny... he made me feel good. Only when he found out that I was different... he freaked. That was the first time he came home drunk, and... he couldn´t control himself..."

His voice reduced to a whisper. "He was devastated afterwards, once he was sober again, apologizing over and over..."

"But it happened again."

"Yes... I was about to leave him, despite his threats to kill me if I did, to tell the authorities about my ´abnormality´- and that´s when I discovered I was pregnant. I was scared to death."

"So you stayed?"

"Yes... and he restrained himself. For the baby. We managed to get along quite well, and even though he had hurt me, I needed his support. There was no one else to turn to, apart from my mother. I didn´t want him to know about her though, so I tried to keep our communication at a minimum, but he inevitably found out... it was her who helped me with the birth."

"You mean- she... you had Scorpius _at home_?"

"At the manor. My mother and a house-elf helped me. I couldn´t have gone anywhere else..."

Harry stared at Draco, trying to imagine what he must have gone through.

"You´re very brave," he said softly.

Tears were shimmering in Draco´s eyes now: "Or very stupid," he whispered. "I nearly died in childbed, I had lost too much blood, and my mother is no midwife, after all... but I am grateful for Scorpius, he was worth the trouble."

-

Unbidden memories were haunting Draco after Harry had left. How the hours of strenuous labour had blurred together in the end, how he had felt his strength vaning rapidly at one point, the eerie feeling of his blood running out of him.

His mother´s anxious face, pale with worry, and then, after one last effort, the thin wail of a newborn infant.

He had drifted in and out of consciousness during the next few days, too depleted from the blood loss and everything else his body had been put through, unable to hold or even consciously look at his child.

He had sometimes been aware of a small, warm body on his chest, and it had strangely calmed him when terrifying dreams had haunted his feverish mind.

After he had finally had recovered enough to sit up a bit, revived by vast amounts of blood-replenishing potions and broth, Narcissa had laid the baby into his arms for the first time. ´Happy belated birthday, my darling´ she had whispered, smiling brightly, and Draco had stared at her in bewilderment; he had completely forgotten about it and only now realized that he had had his baby on his own birthday.

After one look at his little boy Draco knew that he would never again feel a love more pure, or bigger, for anyone else, than the love he had felt right then. His child, tiny and precious, had instantly captured his heart.

He cautiously buried deeper into the blanket, trying not to aggravate his injured spleen, while Harry´s voice echoed through his tired mind: ´I´ll help you, if you let me´.

He closed his eyes: yes, he would let Harry help him. He was the wizarding world´s saviour, after all, and Shacklebolt´s protegé; no one would dare to ask him how he had gotten the memory. He probably was the only person who could help him at all, and for some reason, Draco realized he did not mind the thought anymore.

He sighed; he really needed to get out of this mess, and he could still feel Harry´s hand on his shoulder, warm and reassuring.

**--**

**The End**

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